Cool guys don’t look at explosions


Pedal to the metal,

Tires screech, I start off,

Giving birth to a cloud

Of thick and foul white smoke,

Bullets rain around me,

Shouting echoes loudly.


No time for it to settle

I’m gone, breaking the standoff;

I’m quite sure they don’t feel proud:

Outdone by a single bloke,

Entire private army…

Eyes closed, singlehandedly!


Now, no time for reckless mettle,

This is not completely over,

For I must still escape unbowed

Or my licence they might revoke…

The sky still remains dark, stormy,

But I let myself smirk proudly.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.